


Down the river and into the sea

by be_a_rebel



Category: Generation Kill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-24
Updated: 2010-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/be_a_rebel/pseuds/be_a_rebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doesn't remember how he ended up watching Brad fuck the LT in a Haji motel that still smells of the residents Ray kicked out….scared out, Brad said when he staggered in, drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down the river and into the sea

  
**Pairing:** Brad/Nate/Ray

**Rating:** NC-17

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Generation Kill.

  


It’s damned hot in here, roasting and sweat trickles down his neck and forehead.

 

Sweat lines the LT, thin shoulders, lines it, as he tries to grip Brad’s shoulders with his feet, tries to pull him closer, tries to..(this is the part he has trouble wrapping his mind around)…tries to get Brad _in_ more…

 

He doesn’t remember how this happened, he remembers booze, he remembers Trombley, he remembers goodbye, Reporter, goodbye. He remembers a sense of loss, a departure from the outside world. He remembers a video.

 

Doesn’t remember how he ended up watching Brad fuck the LT in a Haji motel that still smells of the residents Ray kicked out….scared out, Brad said when he staggered in, drunk.

 

Jesus. They’re kissing. They’re fucking each others tongues, its awkward, its hysterical, there’s a whelp, it’s painful.

 

How did he miss this?

 

How did it start?

 

Brad’s teeth on the LT’s shoulders and fuck he’s hard, how is this making him hard, he’s a breast lover, a cunningulus fan, he loves the pussy and he loves the ass, he loves the quiet sounds women make when they come.

 

Not the sounds the LT’s making, not those grunts, like Trombley’s shit process, not that loud moan, can’t mistake the LT for anything but a man.

 

Christ. Motherfucking Christ.

 

He grips himself through his pants, too drunk to fumble them open and draws up, savage, like Brad, who’s fucking taking, fucking _taking_ like this isn’t their leader spread out for him but a whore, someone he’s screwed a dozen times and will screw a dozen more.

 

Jesus.

 

They’re acting like he isn’t in the room but he’s knows they know, it’s not possible they don’t, he was invited , or noticed and ignored (more likely?). But they aren’t acknowledging him, he wonders if they are even acknowledging each other, if this isn’t a release fuck, a we’re fucked fuck, a we fucked up Iraq fuck, a Jesus, what are we doing here fuck.

 

The LT’s biting a pillow, and that’s a health hazard if he ever saw one, no idea about how much Haji come is on it.

 

He twists harder, hips up into it now, not caring, so fucking close, cloth harsh on skin.

 

He comes, right knee giving out and floor, how’d that come so close. He almost bangs his head on the chair down.

 

“Brad.” Scream almost. He stays down.

  
  


End file.
